After The Credits
by MMBeaudoin
Summary: Stolen glances, stolen kisses, love, hardship and grown-up decisions. This is a series of Daniel and Betty moments, depicting parts of their lives after season 4. I strive to write with taste and stay true to the characters. Give them a read!
1. Chapter 1

**So here is the first of hopefully many snippets of Daniel and Betty's life together after season 4. This one takes place directly after their dinner date from the finale. Please read and review, let me know what you think and look forward to more Betty and Daniel in the near future 3**

**-Cheers**

"Okay, if our waiter was that enthusiastic _without_ being on drugs, then I'm even more worried about him then if he was high."

I grab a hold of the banister, laughing so hard my stomach hurts, I shake my head.

"He was actually spitting he was talking so fast." I fumble for my keys, hearing the sound of Daniel's expensive shoes on the steps behind me as we climb the three flights up to my London apartment.

"He almost knocked your water over with his exaggerated hang gestures." He mimics the gestures with his own hands, I snort, and put my key in the lock.

Daniel leans against the door frame, his proximity making it difficult for me to turn the key properly, and his eyes on me causing me to take longer than it should to get the door open. I don't get it, I've never felt this way around him before. Well, maybe once or twice, the lock clicks, but that was different.

I smile, a littler nervously at him as he pushes himself off the wall and slips into my apartment.

"Well," I follow after him, placing my keys the bowl I've sat next to the door. "This is it!" I gesture to the small, colourful apartment. The walls painted different shades of brown, yellow and turquois.

"Betty, this is," shoving his hands in his pockets he turns in a circle, looking around the apartment. "This is so Betty." He says through a smile, and I can't help but smile with him.

"Is that a good thing?" I ask, shrugging out my jacket and hanging it on the bright green hooks behind the door.

"It's a very good thing." He nods once, following suit and shrugging out of his own coat.

"Oh," I rush over, taking it from him, and he nods, smirking a little shyly.

"Sorry," I say quietly, walking the jacket to the hooks and placing it next to mine. "Occupational hazard." I clasp my hands together, an awkward silence resting over the entire apartment. Something that happens so rarely whenever I've been with Daniel. But somehow this feels different. Not seeing him for months, with him being in New York and me in London, on the one hand it feels like everything has changed. But on the other, it's as if we've never been apart.

"Right then, a drink, as promised." I break the silence, slipping passed him to the kitchen. Opening my cupboards, and pull two wine glasses from the shelf, wondering for the hundredth time if this is a date, and then go to the fridge. "Well, I don't have any wine," I wrinkle my nose, "But I do have this _vanilla vodka_ left over from the launch party." I hold it up and shake the half empty bottle.

Daniel grimaces, but nods bringing the glasses over.

I pour an inch of the clear liquid in each glass and hand him one.

"To London." I tilt my glass towards him.

"To unemployment." I laugh, he chuckles and he touches his glass to mine.

We both begin to sputter and cough at the same time, as the contents of the cheap alcohol mixed with artificial vanilla flavouring burns our throats.

"Ugh," I shake my head at the girly, perfume-y liquor.

"Ahh," Daniel shakes his head, "It tastes like Amanda," I cover my face, my laughter filling the otherwise empty apartment, his bad joke lingering like a heavy yet comforting reminder of the past between us.

"I'm sorry, this is terrible," I look at the bottle, screwing the lid back on and placing it next to the sink, taking the two glasses and rinsing the toxic vanilla rubbing alcohol out of them.

"So you really left Mode?" I wipe my hands on a tea towel, chucking it onto the small island, then leaning against the counter.

"I really did." He nods, shoving hid hands in his pockets, he rests opposite me next to my fridge.

"I think what you're doing is really brave."

He doesn't say anything, he only looks at me. His eyes seem to search mine for something, though I'm not sure he finds it, because he doesn't look away. The small apartment begins to feel even smaller as his look begins to melt through me.

"You do?" And then I know that we aren't just talking about him leaving Mode, or getting on a plane, or uprooting his entire life.

We're talking about us.

He pushes himself off of the counter, slowly walking around the island in my tiny kitchen, he looks down at his feet.

"Yeah," my throat is dry and it comes out as a crackly whisper. I clear it, and try again, "I mean, you've been there your entire professional career, you've built a reputation there…" My words falter as the gap between us begins to close. "And Daniel I think you should know that you don't need you last name or your fancy reputation to get you where you want to go, you were a great boss, and a great editor in chief and magazines all over London would be lucky to have you…"

I've completely lost my train of thought, he's so close that I can smell the mild, familiar scent of his expensive cologne on his sports coat, and the dark chocolate from tonight's dessert on his breath.

"Betty," it looks as if he's fighting a smile, "You're talking a lot."

"Oh," I push up glasses, and press myself into the counter behind me, fighting the urge to take a step forward. I've held Daniel before, and he's held me; but I can't help but wonder what it would be like, right now, having just been to dinner with wine and a live jazz band. With him having appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and back into my life; not as my boss, not as my friend, but as this entirely new facet of himself; a completely blank canvas waiting to be made into something extraordinary. Yeah, I wonder what that embrace would feel like…

I apologise and he smiles.

"Do you think," He's stopped just inches from me, his hands in his pockets, his head stooped to try and catch my eye line, "there will ever be a time, when I'm not going to be just, 'Daniel Meade, your boss'?" he has lowered his voice to match my quiet volume.

"Well that is a," his hand moves from his pocket, reaching forward touching his finger tips to the back of my hand that hangs loose by my side. "Is a, uhm, complicated question…" Goose bumps spring up under his careful touch. "Because Daniel, you're not the same man I met almost five years ago. You've changed so much that I don't even know if I would recognize that guy anymore." My words come faster as my barriers begin to crumble far too easily, just at his closeness alone. "But you will always be Daniel Meade." My heart seems to slow, calming itself as I finish this sentence.

Because it's the truth. The man standing in from of me has come so far from the womanizer I used to work for. But he's still the same Daniel I got coffee for on that first day. The same man I comforted at the passing of his wife. The man who was so against me leaving that he nearly burned his office down. He's still crazy, passionate, impulsive Daniel.

He removes his hand from mine, placing it carefully back into his pocket, looking down, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

"And you may not believe that, or be able to see the change as much as the people around you can, but Daniel believe me when I tell you this." I finally reach out, grasping him by the arms and looking into his eyes with as much warmth as I can muster. "You have never been 'just a boss' to me."

His eyes seem to focus on the cabinets behind me for a moment, his eyes glazing over as my words sink in. and with a small nod, he blinks, his eyes coming back to me as he closes the space between us.

It has never been a burning question in my mind, what kissing Daniel Meade would be like; but right now, in this moment, I can't help but wonder why not.

His kiss is not demanding. His kiss doesn't ask for anything, it's all giving. His mouth is soft against mine; and as my grip on his biceps loosens, his hands fall from his pockets and onto my hips as I let him ease me away from the counter top, towards him.

He pulls away, the air between us is quiet and shallow. This time it's my mouth that reaches for his and he lets me pull him back in, my hand sliding up his arm and neck, holding him against me. It's not rushed, the way so many first kisses are. It's as if we're exploring each other, like a silent conversation that seems to go on for a lifetime. It's beautiful and terrifying and it's all ours. Unexpected tears burn behind my eyelids, branding this overwhelming moment as they threaten to spill onto my cheeks.

And when he steps into me, deepening the connection, his lips catching mine in that way that makes your head spin and your stomach do summersaults, my heart skips and I place a hand on his chest, breaking away; my heavy breathing matching his.

"Sorry," He whispers into the air between us, leaning his forehead into mine.

A breathy laugh escapes my mouth as I shake my head, silently forgiving him for making my skin flush and my heart race; for making me cry.

"Betty, what's wrong?" he can see the moisture in my eyes and I can't comprehend his ridiculous question. What could be wrong with that moment?

"Nothing," I smile through my tears, quickly swiping as one falls silently, "I think I just really missed you." I push my hands through my hair, my neck damp with sweat. He's still standing so close; it's hot in here. "Yeah," I nod, looking up into his clear and curious eyes. "I'm really glad you're here."

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they do when his smile is genuine. "Do you work tomorrow?" He takes a step back, thank God, he makes it difficult to breathe when he's within kissing distance.

"You mean on a Wednesday?" I raise my eyebrows at him, "Yes Daniel, I work."

"Well then I'm coming by your place of work," the way he says it, it doesn't sound like a question. "You can show me your fancy office and I can take you to lunch."

I bite a smile at the thought of Daniel in my London world, and loving how it feels. As if we're the only two people in this life. If people saw us at lunch together tomorrow they won't think 'there goes that handsome millionaire with his dorky assistant.' It's like we get to start again, only now, we're both the people we're meant to be.

"It's a date." I nod, slipping past him, grabbing his jacket from the hook and holding it out to him; forcing him to leave before I change my mind and decide to keep him here forever. He smiles a small smile and takes it from me.

"Yeah, it is." Leaning in, too quickly for me to react, he presses a kiss just below my temple. "Goodnight Betty."

I hold the door for him, watching him shrug into his jacket, "Night Daniel."

I wait until the staircase leads him out of sight before closing the door and leaning up against it. Unable to keep the smile from my face, I press my palms to my blushing cheeks. Willing my heart to return to its regular pace.

I walk through my small apartment, turning off the lights, closing the blinds, changing out of my fitted turquois dress and black heels and into an oversized pajama shirt; smiling all the while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello Lovelies! Here's the next installment of Betty and Daniel. This one is a little sad, a little heavier. But I promise, my intention is to create a beautiful life for them in these pages; just in the most realistic way I can. Please enjoy and please review. You know how much I love hearing from you all :)**

"Okay, so I know the situation in Boston is really quite controversial, but it's not like us the shy away from a story. I think it would be smart to at least talk to the attorney, he's really a nice guy. At least that's how it came across from his e-mails." I push my glasses up, taking another drink of my coffee. "Erin, would you mild contacting him today, ask him when would be a good time to get together?"

Erin scribbles a note in her book and smiles, "Sure thing Betty."

"Betty what do you want us to do about the shoot at city hall at four?" Ben scratches his temple with the end of his pen.

"Ahh, right, don't worry about that, I can get there by that time and officiate no problem." I flip my planner open to today's day, and make a note under the 4PM slot and smile at Daniel's name written neatly under the 12PM, and proceed to circle it absentmindedly throughout the remainder of the meeting.

"Miss. Suarez," Grace our receptionist, pokes her head into my office, "There is an extremely attractive man here to see you."

Each person in the meeting looks to me curiously, Grace smiles.

"Grace, I've asked you not to tell me who is here based on their looks," I set down my pen, "What's his name?" Though I know full well who she is talking about.

"Right," Grace squints, obviously trying to remember who he introduced himself as. "Mister…" She draws the word out long, thinking hard. I smile at her effort and good humor. "_Blue-eyes_, is here to see you."

I shake my head.

"Thank you Grace," I close my laptop and day planner, standing up and stretching, "Thanks everyone, meeting dismissed!" I gather my papers as everyone filters out with their 'thank-yous' and suggestive 'have a good lunch' comments.

Checking my watch, he's a little early. I slip my feet back into my heels and do up the ankle strap, removing my coat from the coatrack by the door.

"He's here." Sarah, my assistant, stands up quick as I exit my office.

"I know," I whisper loudly, trying to keep my butterflies at bay.

"Can I meet him?" she begins to follow me down the hall.

"Sarah, phones!" I point back at her desk and she pouts a little. "I'll bring him back to meet you, I promise." She smiles, obviously satisfied, and returns to her desk.

Turning the corner, I pause. Daniel is leaning against the reception desk, flipping through the latest issue of the magazine. Dressed more casually than usual in a grey sweater and dark washed jeans with his black trench, it hits me again exactly how much I've missed him. Grace is taking a not-so-discreet picture of him from behind the desk.

"Hey," I continue into the entrance, causing him to look up from the article he is reading, pulling his face into his million dollar smile. I nearly roll my eyes, I had forgotten how beautiful he was.

"Hey," he sets the magazine down next to our bowl of candy, and tissues and pushes off of the desk. "Great office."

I closing the space and lift myself up onto my tiptoes and plant a quick kiss on the corner of his smile.

"Thank you," I look around, admiring my new place of work, "I like it." I shrug, looking up at him, both of us grinning like idiots. "Grace," she jumps a little, "This is Daniel. He was my boss in New York, he helped me get my start in editing." Daniel's hand finds mine while I'm talking, and I let him interlace his fingers with mine.

"Daniel this is Grace, receptionist extraordinaire." I gesture to Grace, and she stands, shaking the hand Daniel offers her.

"It's nice to meet you." He nods and she smiles enthusiastically.

"You too."

"We've heard _a lot_ about you." Putting too much emphasis on the words 'a lot', I roll my eyes.

Daniel chuckles, allowing her to wring his hand silly.

"You want the quick tour? My assistant will kill me if I don't introduce you."

"I would love a tour."

After freeing himself from Grace's grip, he lets me lead him into the back offices.

Briefly introducing him to the people we pass in the hall, we slowly make our way back to my office. Sarah is on the phone, scribbling a message down on a pink sticky note.

"I'll be sure Betty gets a hold of you as soon as she's back from lunch. Thank you for calling."

"Sarah," we both come around her desk, and she quickly stands, smiling widely.

"Oh yay! You must be Daniel!" she claps her hands together excitedly.

"Daniel, this is my assistant Sarah this is my—" I almost choke on my words, my sentence coming to a halt as I realise I don't know what word to use. "Daniel." I clumsily finish the sentence.

"Hello Betty's Daniel," she doesn't let me get away with it, putting emphasis on my slip up.

Daniel is chuckling as I quickly wrap up the awkward encounter, pulling him into my office, closing the door behind us.

"Ta-da!" I dramatically gesture to the room.

"Wow," my hand feels cold as he lets it go, walking further into the room, taking in the generously sized office. "Hot-shot Suarez." He comments, and I smile uncomfortably. He approaches my desk and takes a seat in my chair, taking in the abundance of framed photos. I cross my arms over my stomach as I watch his eyes float across the one of my family and me at Christmas, Mark and Amanda in my old apartment, Hilda and I in dad's kitchen, until his eyes finally rest on the picture of the two of us, dancing at Hilda's wedding. We're both laughing at something, the couples around us blurry. I remember Hilda saying, when she gave me the framed print, that she didn't think she'd ever seen the two of us look so happy.

Before London. Before I left, and he let me.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?" The words are out of my mouth before I realise. These are the words I've been wanting to ask him since the day I left, they've been rolling around in my mind for weeks, tormenting me.

His eyes stay on the photo for another second before they find mine.

"I think," He clears his throat, standing up and taking a few steps towards the window. "I—I don't know. I think saying goodbye meant that it was real, and I wasn't really ready to confront reality." Scratching the back of his neck he finally looks back at me, a hopeless look in his eyes, "that wasn't something that I wanted to do."

I wait, to see if he will say anything else, to see if I can understand what exactly he thought would come from avoiding the inevitable. Only London wasn't inevitable. Does he not know that?

"But," I take a step forward, shaking my head, "You didn't _do_ anything. You just disappeared, you let me believe that you didn't even want to see me."

"Betty, what did you want me to do? You had already made up your mind that you were going, and the thought of life without you was killing me! I didn't want to take this opportunity away from you. I didn't want to be selfish, not with you." He throws his hand in the air, his voice rising.

"Why didn't you say this to me _then_?" I match his volume, stepping closer, "Why did you let to get on that plane? Why did you let me leave?!"

"I asked you to stay, I wanted you to stay."

My shoulders slump, the air in my lungs escapes, "You never asked me to stay Daniel." My voice deflates, my throat thick with month old tears.

His eyebrows knit together, his hands finding his pockets again.

"I asked you—"

"You offered me a promotion. You never asked me to stay." I watch realization dawn on him, confusion blossoming in his eyes. My own eyes filling with tears, I refuse to look away, "I would have remembered that."

He lets out a silent breath, his shoulders losing their usual posture, he looks lost. Hurting and confused.

Slowly, I begin to walk to him, my shoes breaking the silence of the office space, I wonder briefly if Grace and Sarah are listening at the door.

As I reach him, my hands find his forearms, my fingers lightly trail up to his shoulders and neck, easing his eyes to find mine.

"I would have remembered that, Daniel," my eyes swim, blurring the man in front of me. "Because I would have stayed." And there they were. The words I hadn't let myself think, let alone say a loud. Admitting exactly the mount of influence he has in my life and in my heart. They hang heavy between us, heartbreakingly clear. "I would have stayed for _you._"

My arms wrap around his shoulders, he buries his face in my neck, his arms wrapping all the way around me, crushing me to him in an embrace so desperate and strained it's nearly uncomfortable.

Nearly.

"I missed you." His words are muffled, his breath tickling my neck. "I should have fought harder. For you."

I relax into his arms, my fingertips play with the hair at the nape of his neck, my tears sting my eyes when they close, I turn my face and plant a smattering of kisses near his temple.

"It's okay," I whisper against his jaw. "It's okay," Because it's true. He's here now. With me. "We're okay."

**Review? Thanks guys :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third installment! I tried to take my time with this one, I hope you all like my depiction of Detty's first time...**

"So are you two like… _together?"_ Hilda's suggestive tone, even over Skype, makes me wrinkle my nose.

"Well, I mean we haven't really talked about it. But…yeah." I try to keep myself from smiling, but she sees right through me.

"Well finally!" She throws her hands in the air, flicking her webcam.

"Hey!" I flick back, "don't say _finally_ like that, like it was so _obvious._" I push up my glasses.

"Baby, it was obvious. The way he was looking at you at my wedding, mmm, that boy has it _bad—_"

"Okay, alright, enough. I'm tired and I'm going to bed, I love you." I wave, reaching for the mouse.

"Wait! Have you two—"

"Goodnight Hilda!" I quickly press the 'end call' button, cutting off her question before I would be forced to answer. Closing my laptop that is perched on my coffee table; _Frasier_ playing muted on the TV.

My wine glass is empty and my feet hurt from the heels I haven't bothered to take off yet. I reach for my feet, pushing the first shoe off, letting it bounce off the arm of the couch before making a '_thump_' on the floor.

Stretching for the other one, there's a knock on the door, making me jump, the remote falling to the rug.

I check my watch, it's nearly midnight. I frown, remembering the horror stories Papi's told me about abductees in foreign countries when he was trying to get me to stay.

I stand up on my shoeless foot, hopping as quietly as possible to the kitchen, snatching the meat-tenderizer from the counter, and cautiously hopping to the door. I reach a careful hand out and turn the nob slowly…

"Betty," Daniel's expression is a mix of shock and amusement.

"Daniel!" I lower my weapon of choice, placing my shoe'd foot back down, my heart returning to its regular pace. "What are you doing here?" I look him up and down. He's wearing a suit that hangs off of him as if each thread was made for him, a silver tie in place loosely around his neck.

"You're looking very dapper, what's the occasion?" I push my foot out of my shoe and kick it to the side.

He shrugs, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I might have had a job interview today." He leans against my doorframe, unable to keep the smile from his face any longer.

"_What_?" I grab hold of the door, my heart skipping, "You did!?" okay, I'm yelling now.

He laughs, nodding.

"What happened? Where was the interview? What _happened_?"

"Well," He stands up straighter, his shoulders back, looking like the happy and confident man I'm used to seeing. "You're looking at the new senior editor for _London Solo." _

"OhmygoshDanielI'msohappyforyou!" I'm jumping up and down now, pulling him inside the apartment.

He laughs a carefree laugh, letting me pull him into a hug. My bare feet feel cool on the hardwood floor as we stand in the middle of my apartment, holding each other, losing track of time.

"We need to celebrate." I say, finally pulling away from his comfortable embrace. "Drinks."

"Agreed," He nods, then looks at my pajamas and the nest or blankets and popcorn I've made on the couch. "Do you think your bunny slippers will want to join us?"

I swat his arm, pulling my hair out of its ponytail, fluffing it dramatically. "Give me four minutes." I walk backwards towards the bedroom, "Seven tops."

XXX

"Is it always like that?" I cling to Daniel's arm in the cool breeze, tucking my face into my scarf.

"Not here. It was only a few days ago when the press even realized I was nowhere to be found in New York. I tried not to take it too personally." I roll my eyes, "I guess news got out about _Solo_."

"Will those pictures be printed?" My voice is a little too high pitched to be considered casual. I've never really been the face of the newest gossip, except maybe if I'm making a fool of myself. For some reason the thought of being photographed at an intimate English pub, on a date with Daniel Meade makes me more nervous than when the story of me driving a motorcycle into a vat of Jello hit headlines.

"It's hard to say, they kind of do what they want." He sounds so blasé about publicising our relationship to the world, that it fills me with a strange sort of happiness. I tighten my grip on his arm, resting my head on his shoulder as we walk down the quiet London street.

"Here we are," Daniel pulls his keys out of his coat pocket, turning towards an upper class looking set of apartment buildings.

"Very nice."

"Thank you." Unlocking the front door, we walk passed the staircase, going straight to a door near the back of the beautiful entrance, unlocking it with a similar looking key.

"Daniel this is…" I don't have any words for the apartment in front of me. I step into the warm looking, inviting space. It smells like pine and fresh air. It's open and charming and expensive looking.

He drops his eyes on the floor next to the door, walking over to the window and closing it, he rubs his hands together.

"Cold?" He shrugs out of his long black jacket, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck.

"Not so much," I shake my head, shivering anyway.

He gestures for me to come in further into the apartment, and we somehow meet somewhere in the middle. He still looks so formal, so professional a put together. It feels so out of place in this context.

"Here, just let me," I reach up, loosening his tie from around his neck and unbuttoning the top button of his crisp white shirt. "There, now you're…" He lifts his hand to mine, catching it there as I go to pull back, holding my hand at his collar, the blue in his eyes turning to liquid, effectively silencing my sentence.

His thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand, I draw in a breath and blink too much.

"It's a.." My voice is hardly a whisper, I clear my throat, "great tie."

"Betty."

"Hmm?"

This kiss is different than our first. His mouth is soft against mine, but there's yielded passion kept at bay. My hand, still in his, is guided around his neck as he holds it there, his other finding my waist.

I've kissed guys before, yet somehow kissing him, it's as if I've forgotten how. My mind is a jumble, a foggy memory of me practicing kissing on my hand comes to mind. Little did I know, back then, what Daniel Meade would be capable of making me feel.

Somehow my hands have found the inside of his jacket as I push it off of his shoulders. His hands leave me only to loosen the tie more, pulling it over his head; making his collar and hair stand up a little funny.

Stepping out of my shoes, he leans down farther as I lose the height, his hands on my neck, easing my mouth open and on his. Goose-bumps lifting across my arms and everywhere else his skin touches mine.

The buttons on his shirt are small and finicky, ridiculously so.

"This is impossible."

"Just, let me—be patient!" he swats my fingers away.

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"Shhh," He returns his mouth to mine, kissing me deeper than before, effectively shutting me up, his hands on my waist guiding me backwards a few steps. My hands help as he tries to shred his shirt at last.

"What is happening here?" I'm laughing against his lips as he seems to be struggling.

"Damn cuff links."

I throw my head back, giggling, his shirt caught around his wrists.

"You get this one," He points with his chin at his right wrist, as he works on his left.

We stand in his living room, the two of us panting, fumbling with the tedious task of the small cuff links pushed through the button holes of his nice shirt. Both of us chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Going from friends to this is definitely an adjustment.

Daniel drops his link on the flood, freeing himself from his sleeve as I'm finally able to remove the second.

"You're going to lose these," I make a half-hearted attempt to scan the floor for its match, but his nakedness is distracting and he's quickly able to bring my attention back to other, more important things.

In the bedroom, standing next to his bed he finds the zipper to my dress, and my heart falls out of place. In an instant my insecurities wash over me like a wave, taking me through reality, and right into this moment. I interlace my fingers with his, diverting his attention from the removal of my clothing.

The image of Daniel with his lineup of size zero model girlfriends trapeses through my mind uninvited.

After the second disruption of my zipper, he pulls back, looking down at me, curiosity swimming there.

"Do you want to slow down?" Our breathing is rapid, his eyes are wild; his words don't match his passionate expression; although when I don't answer right away his eyes begin to edge with concern.

"No, no I don't," I shake my head, lifting up onto my toes so I can reach his lips. He lets me, an edge of caution in his kiss.

And when I let him shed me of my dress. His hands skimming my sides as he lifts it over my head. My glasses go crooked on my face as he smiles, fixing them for me. He lets my dress fall to the ground beside us as he guides me onto the bed with him; I try to leave my insecurities with it. There on the floor.

"This is a ridiculously comfortable bed." I say against his lips, his bare skin is warm against mine as he hovers above me.

His quiet laughter makes me relax even more, his smiling lips brushing the skin below my ear.

"Are you nervous?" his words are filled with amusement and honest curiosity.

"What? Huuh, no, what're you even," I shake my head, shoving his shoulder light, he laughs again, "Shut up." I knit my fingers into his hair, silencing his teasing with my lips.

It's the most intimate, and personal thing in the world. Baring your whole self to someone. Allowing them access to the innermost parts of your being. I know almost everything there is to know about this man with me now, and I have been more honest with him then I have with anyone. But in this night, this moment, we have to start from scratch.

It's like a re-discovery of someone's soul. Figuring out what it is they like and don't like, making mistakes and making wonderful happenings. Laughing through the uneasy and clumsy moments, and losing ourselves in the euphoric ones.

Falling separately but together, completely tangled up in the right here right now of making love.

Hours later, my eyes drifting open and closed, the early morning light peeking in; Daniel's head resting against my stomach, our breathing matched in its exhaustion and contentment. My sleepy fingers play with his hair, my own thrown across the pillow in disarray.

I tug lightly on his hair, his head turning a little with it, I receive a sexy, sleepy groan.

Turning his head, he rests his chin near my hip, looking up at me through his lashes, his eyelids heavy. His fingers play with mine, I watch him carefully.

"God you're beautiful." His words are slurred with fatigue. I blink at him, pulling my lips into a smile.

"Thanks." I answer simply.

And after a moment, his eyebrows pull together.

"No," he shakes his head a little, clumsily propping himself up on his elbow, he scoots himself farther up so he can better look into my eyes. "No Betty, listen to me." He seems troubled in his groggy state, his eyes hardly visible in the dim lighting. I can feel him looking inside me. "You, are _so_ beautiful."

My heart aches dully in my chest, my fingers go limp in his hair, my eyes focus and refocus on his face, the sincerity that rests there is staggering. Moving my hand from his hair, I trace his lips with my fingertips.

"Thank you." It's hardly a whisper, but I know he heard me. After a moment, his neck relaxes, his forehead resting against my ribs he plants a kiss on my waist. I shiver from the gesture, my entire body reacting to this small action.

After several minutes, he reaches down to the foot of the bed, where most of the quilt has ended up on the floor, and pulls it up and around us. Cocooning us in the warmth of each other and the bliss that hangs over us as we drift off.

**Review? Thanks guys :)**


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